


Soft

by FalseCamaro (Gandalfgirl579)



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Anal Sex, Biting, Dream Pack, Emotional Intimacy, Explicit Sexual Content, Gentle Sex, Gentle by their standards anyway, K gets off on emotional intimacy, M/M, Possessive Behavior, Prokopinsky
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-08
Updated: 2016-10-08
Packaged: 2018-08-20 06:15:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8239036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gandalfgirl579/pseuds/FalseCamaro
Summary: The way Proko reaches down to place a hand over K's, guiding the grip on his own cock feels more intimate than any of their words have, his eyes on K's, dark and adoring and wanting for far more than just sex.





	

"Say it again."

 

Despite the softness of K's voice, it's a command, and licking his lips, Proko breathes, "I love you."

 

It's entirely true, K knows, and he shivers, hips pressing deep and holding, holding.

 

Beneath him, sprawled along the leather sofa, Proko has his fingers tangled into his own hair, his head tossed to the side, frosty eyes squeezed shut. He looks like a goddamn porn star, and there's nothing K wants more than to simply _devour him whole_.

 

"Look at me."

 

Another command.

 

Proko is too far gone to even hear it.

 

Hips stilling, just for a moment, K leans in, pressing one hand to Proko's chest, feeling the beating of the other boy's heart frantic and desperate against his palm. "Look at me, baby."

 

This time, Proko obeys, his pale, pretty eyes fluttering open to meet K's. Without his sunglasses to shield him from the heat in that look, K _burns_.

 

Propping up on one elbow, Proko tangles his free hand into dark hair, pulling K closer and breathing against his plush lips, "I love you."

 

A reply is bubbling at the back of K's throat, and he pulls back, hips rolling hard.

 

Proko's voice is a rapidly failing thing, catching in his chest in soft whimpers and wet, needy gasps, and he hitches one thigh around K's waist, riding his cock against K's stomach.

 

One hand at Proko's hip, holding him down, K's other hand drifts to Proko's cock, biting back a low growl when Proko flutters around him at the contact.

 

The way Proko reaches down to place a hand over K's, guiding the grip on his own cock feels more intimate than any of their words have, his eyes on K's, dark and adoring and wanting for far more than just sex.

 

It's a strangled whimper and a bitten lip and the press of Proko's blunt, chewed down nails to scarred knuckles that has K coming hard inside him, shuddering apart with his face hidden against one of Proko's uneven shoulders, mouthing along freckled, golden skin.

 

"Don't stop." It isn't a command; It's a plea. Proko is submissive through and through. "K, _please_ , don't stop."

 

Dropping down to one elbow, keeping a tight grip around Proko's cock, K tangles his other hand into strawberry-blonde locks, pulling just the way Proko likes, and Proko's responding moan is a thing of beauty, breathy and soft, his pretty eyes squeezing shut again.

 

It isn't enough.

 

Curling his arms around K's shoulders, nails digging into soft skin, Proko rolls his hips into K's grip, tossing his head back against the pillow when K's fingers tighten in his hair, tugging hard and possessive, pulling his head back to lay claim to his throat, a series of red-black-violet marks laid into his skin for all to see.

 

" _Mine_." K's voice is low and rough, muffled against soft skin.

 

It's as close to a proper _I love you_ as Joseph Kavinsky is likely to get, Proko knows.

 

_It isn't enough._

 

Pressing his cheek to spiked hair, Proko says again, shivering at his own voice, "I love you, K."

 

Though his rough, calloused hand doesn't stop working Proko's cock, K does glance up for a moment, his eyes half-lidded and dark as sin, and just the way he kisses is enough: Possessive and needy and wanting and strangely warm, strangely soft.

 

_Soft_ doesn't really suit either of them, but Proko is immensely grateful for it all the same, his hips pressing up into K's hand as he comes down, shivering hard when K's tongue laps at the bruised skin of his throat, half an apology.

 

Again, his voice sex-wrecked and thoroughly indecent, K murmurs, " ** _Mine_**."

 

Pressing his mouth to the corner of K's lips, feeling warm and spent and fucking _glowing_ , Proko agrees, " _Yours_."

**Author's Note:**

> People here and on Tumblr wanted continuance of the idea of K and Proko properly making love, so. And, God, just writing this felt intimate. Weird. Good, I think, but weird.
> 
> Also, K would love nothing more than Proko saying "I love you." Seriously. Think about it. God knows the poor kid doesn't get enough love.
> 
> Excited for more fics? Have constructive criticism or even just silly comments to add? Let me know! And as always, I must mention that I go by [pr0ko](http://pr0ko.tumblr.com/) over on Tumblr, and I'm totally open to taking questions and comments and requests and prompts there! :) Hit me up!


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